Mind Over Matter
by another wannabe author
Summary: Although there is definitely nothing wrong, Sasuke must see a shrink. The last person he expected to see in the waiting room is Hinata Hyuga. Possibly SasuHina.
1. Chapter 1

**Mind Over Matter**

Summary: Although there is definitely nothing wrong, Sasuke must see a shrink. The last person he expected to see in the waiting room is Hinata Hyuga. Possibly SasuHina.

-x-

There's a small white room that leads off from Tsunade's main office, concealed under the misconception that nothing more than a bathroom could be behind its door.

There are motivational posters plastered on the walls, along with posters with instructions on how to treat burns, how to properly wrap a broken arm in a sling and how to perform CPR. A bitter, alcoholic miasma hangs heavy, despite the abundance of incense. There's a desk with an ancient computer, huffing dust and whirring noisily, paperweights and picture frames with stock photos inside. Multiple stacks of unfiled documents are scattered across the floor and litter the desktop. Certificates in all sorts of strange practices Sasuke has never heard of are framed and displayed like masterpieces. Everything about the small white room emanates Tsunade; it's old, all over the place and reeks of sake.

Sasuke sat on a cushioned chair in front of the desk, beside Kakashi, as he and Tsunade discussed his 'unusual behaviour'. If Sasuke had known this was what lay ahead of him when he woke up that morning, he would have drugged himself to sleep for the next few days.

He was so distracted by his surroundings, so deep in thought, that he wasn't aware of Tsunade talking about him until she spoke to him directly.

"What was his name, Sasuke?" she asked.

He blinked. "Come again?"

"Your counselor. Do you remember his name? From five years ago… after…"

Of course, it was inevitable that they would broach the subject of his clan's murder; indirectly, perhaps, but it manifested in so many aspects of his life how could they not?

After the massacre, his eight-year-old self was required to see a counselor. All ten sessions he had with the man were spent in silence. His counselor never said anything, merely watched him. And he wrote things down. What on earth could he possibly be writing, Sasuke wondered? Did his posture give something away? Did his breathing indicate that he was psychotic, did his blinking show signs of depression? The third session, Sasuke was feeling so overwhelmed, so lonely, so lost, he tried to tell the man exactly what happened that evening—he ended up breaking into tears and sobbing instead, as if the words were desperate to keep themselves hidden. He hadn't cried since.

What was his name? Mister something Izumo? Izu-something…

"I don't remember," Sasuke finally replied.

Tsunade leant back in her chair and tapped her fingernails on the edge of her desk, examining Sasuke. She quickly averted her gaze to Kakashi. "You said something about insomnia?"

Sasuke watched Tsunade as she opened a drawer in her desk. It looked like she was completely ignoring Kakashi as he poured over details Sasuke didn't care to pay attention to, but she nodded once and grunted in the right places, so maybe it's just like they say – women can multitask. Somehow, even though she appeared to be the most sloppy, lazy, ill-mannered Hokage in Konoha history, Tsunade proved to be the most capable person Sasuke knew when it came to the wellbeing of others.

She drew a blue page, skimmed the contents, and placed it on the desk, finding a pen and sliding both towards Sasuke. "Fill this out," she ordered.

There was no title on the page, only a space for him to write his name. Following that was what seemed to be an endless questionnaire. Even worse, all the questions were in relation to him. How he felt. He glanced unpleasantly at Tsunade, but she was in deep conversation with his sensei. Sasuke sighed. Suppose he answered it honestly and they put him in an institution? Then again, if he answered it honestly they would see that there's really nothing wrong and he could go back to normal.

He read the first question.

_1. Are you constantly bothered by the past?_

That was unfair. How could he not be? The reason for his existence, what fueled his actions, his motivation for continuing with this 'life' when he could just as easily slip into an eternal sleep was his righteous path to revenge. Surely nobody could question this. Even if they did, Sasuke knew they were wrong, because what else was left for him? Itachi's final words haunted him and possessed him like a demon; there was nothing that could possibly bring him greater satisfaction than seeing his brother's corpse, kin's blood pooling at his feet, squelching between his toes and dripping delectably from his fingers, his own hand bludgeoning over and over again through Itachi's chest—

He needed a breath to calm down.

Sasuke stared at the words and his answer now seemed insignificant. If his aspirations also lead him to be slightly obsessed – if you could even call it that – with the past, then who cares who knew? Certainly not Sasuke. He circled yes and moved on.

_2. Have you recently had trouble sleeping?_

No. Not at all. In fact, he'd been sleeping incessantly. He circled no.

_3. Have you been feeling remarkably irritable?_

Sasuke almost circled yes, but halted himself. Remarkably irritable would imply he was feeling more irritable than usual, when in fact he presently maintained his regular quantity of irritable that had been his most notable attribute for several years, so he circled no.

_4. Do you have trouble concentrating?_

Considerably...

It just went on. And on. By the time Sasuke finally came to the last question, his hand was sore and his mind was wandering out of his control. He felt like he could fall asleep if he merely reclined in his chair. When he finished, he read the entire thing over. He'd been extraordinarily honest.

The two other occupants of the room had suddenly lowered their tone to a rushed whisper.

"…Sasuke looked this tired?" Tsunade murmured, as if to ensure he wouldn't hear.

"A month, maybe two," Kakashi answered. It was clear, from the corner of Sasuke's eye, Tsunade wasn't happy with this response.

"Have you spoken to him about it?" They both looked at him and he pretended to still be reading, focusing on one word as much as he could to make it look like he was really lost in thought.

Kakashi shrugged. "No. Like I said, I wasn't really worried until…"

"Are you finished?" Tsunade said abruptly. Sasuke pretended to tune back in, staring at her blankly. "The form. Are you done?" she repeated, slower, like talking to a very small, handicapped child.

Although not happy with being treated like a kid, Sasuke merely nodded and handed it back. She only took the paper and not the pen, and his arm was left hovering, outstretched, with the pen dangling awkwardly in his fingertips, until he withdrew and started to fiddle with it in his lap. After looking over the sheet, her frown growing deeper and deeper the more she read, she placed it down gently, as if it were fragile, like she didn't want to startle anyone. Then she began asking lots of questions, like how long he's been sleeping badly, if he's been feeling sad or anxious. Kakashi answered most of the questions for him, because he took too long to respond.

"He eats maybe one small meal a day," Kakashi replied for him, again, when Tsunade asked about his eating habits. "That's mostly because he sleeps as soon as he gets back from training. Then he wakes up at around midnight and goes into his bathroom for, what, an hour? And sleeps again until I think about eleven, when he has a muesli bar or something similar."

Sasuke couldn't help the small gasp of outrage that soon fell from his lips. How did Kakashi know so much about his daily routine? Had he been watching him? The thought made him sick. Did he know what Sasuke did in the bathroom? Had he noticed the running water, the metallic scent? How dare he violate his privacy that way?

"I just haven't been hungry," he snapped. "You need to mind your own business! There's nothing wrong with me, alright?"

"Calm down." Tsunade held up her hands in a placating gesture and Sasuke felt completely disgusted.

"Shut up! You don't know anything – you don't know a _thing_!"

He leapt from his seat and, pen clattering noisily to the floor, ignoring the cries from Tsunade, stormed out of the room, down the hallway and outside, heading home. He glared at anyone who looked twice. They murmured, sized him up, wondered what his problem was—but he didn't have a problem. There was nothing wrong.

When he arrived at his front door he practically rammed it full-force. Realising it was locked, he felt his pockets for his keys, feeling more frustrated by the second. He cursed loudly and kicked his door. Where were his keys? He distinctly remembered putting them in his pocket that morning… or was that yesterday? Then he saw the window was open. He clambered through it, into his kitchen, sliding into the basin and sat there, glaring at the tiled floor.

Sasuke felt sick. He didn't like it. All the attention, all the concern, directed towards him. For years he'd relied on himself and gotten accustomed to it. Whenever someone else tried to 'help' he knew they were just underestimating him. He could look after himself. Just because he's been behaving a little differently lately doesn't mean he needed to see a shrink, for crying out loud! His eyes roamed the room blindly until he caught sight of his keys, hanging from their hook near the front door. He clenched his fists.

Eating habits? What did that have to do with anything?

Sasuke yanked open his cupboard and started making a sandwich.

-x-

Tuesday was Sasuke's new least favourite day of the week. Why? Because now, Kakashi had received a referral from Tsunade to see a psychologist, and every Tuesday for ten weeks he was required to see one.

The waiting room felt cliché. The air was stale. There were no windows, only artificial light that made everything look more deathly and ominous than it really was. He felt like he was going to the dentist rather than a shrink. Last time Sasuke was here, he had been in shock. Everything was unreal. He felt similar, even now, but he was able to pick up on certain details his younger self could not.

The receptionist was a young male, who couldn't be anything other than openly gay, and greeted everyone with a drawled 'daaarling'. There was a small coffee table with three-year-old magazines. A security camera in the top right corner seemed to be fixed directly on him. Kakashi was by his side, silent but completely present. He looked to be trying to find something to say. If he tried it might be awkward. Small talk never was his strong point.

There were lots of strange faces in the waiting room. Sasuke was mildly surprised by how many people were there, but it made sense. Most were ninja. Probably all traumatised by something horrible they'd seen in battle or seen done to loved one. Isn't that what always happens? Becoming a ninja is basically signing a contract that ensures a life full of mourning and carnage.

There was a woman in colourful polka-dot balloon pants sitting on the end of the row, mumbling to herself. Definitely crazy, Sasuke thought. On the other side of the room, there was an old man with so many wrinkles his face looked like a scrunched up piece of paper. That might be because he was frowning so hard, though. Sasuke didn't know a single person there. He found it strange that he knew nothing of these people who shared the space he lived in.

The very last person in the waiting room had her back to him. She had short, black, boyish hair and was quite young. About the same age. He couldn't get a clear look at her. The thought of jumping up and leering at her might cause a misunderstanding. Sasuke tried to disregard his childish disappointment. He had been enjoying himself. A cold-water dispenser to the left caught his eye.

"Kakashi," he said. The man almost jumped.

"Hm?"

"I'm getting a drink."

"Oh."

Sasuke took this as consent and slid off the chair, stuffing his hands in his pockets out of habit and approaching the water dispenser. He regretted it almost instantly. His body weight felt as if it had multiplied tenfold, and his entire body ached. He often felt that way in the afternoons as of late and was overwhelmed with exhaustion.

That was another thing that made seeing the shrink inconvenient. The meetings were in the afternoons. Afternoons were when he slept. Along with mornings. And nights. If he didn't sleep enough, he felt like he could pass out at any moment.

It felt like an age before he finally made it. His back was to the unidentified citizen, and he grabbed a cup from the dispenser, filled it with water, then slowly, casually, turned around to face her while simultaneously taking a sip.

He nearly choked.

The girl was indeed his age. Her pale white eyes and solemn, porcelain baby-doll face were all too familiar. Why, of all troubled people in his age group, was Hinata Hyuuga sitting in the waiting room for a shrink? She was hugging her knees to her chest, cheeks puffing slightly against the pressure, eyes bloodshot. From crying? She always had a vulnerable look about her, but in that state she just looked pathetically weak. Was pathetic weakness a medical condition?

Her eyes darted towards him and he realised he'd been staring. They both ogled each other, caught up in their shock, before quickly turning away again. Sasuke shuffled inelegantly back to his seat and didn't move again until Hinata was called into her appointment. Her counselor was young, mid-twenties maybe, with frizzy hair and a kind, round face. She had the same boisterous demeanour as Naruto. Sasuke thought that she might be intimidating to Hinata, before concluding that the two actually knew each other well enough already. The pair hugged before disappearing into the woman's office. Hinata was closing the door behind them when their eyes met once again, and this time they didn't look away for a few moments. Both wondered the same thing.

Why are _you_ here?

This question bounced off the walls of Sasuke's mind until the door clicked shut and Hinata was gone.

Why was she here? She seemed relatively normal compared to all the other people in the waiting room. Which lead to another question—why was Sasuke here? He was slightly offended to think he should be condemned to the same fate as schizophrenic polka-dot woman. What had he done to make Kakashi think he needed help? Panic rose to his throat as his fingers brushed over his wrists. Had his sensei noticed he covers them all the time? Did he see a blood patch? Sasuke examined them to make sure he'd stopped the blood properly last night.

But that couldn't be it. Kakashi had only talked about sleeping and eating habits with Tsunade, so he quickly dismissed the idea.

"Sasuke Uchiha?" the receptionist sang.

"Time to go," Kakashi said, with what seemed like relief. Before he knew it, Sasuke was being whisked towards a face he recognised but couldn't place without a moment's thought.

Dr Harada Izumi. His old counselor.

-x-

Thanks for reading. (:


	2. Chapter 2

Mind Over Matter – Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own _Naruto_.

(This disclaimer applies to all future and previous chapters.)

-x-

When you see Sasuke Uchiha in line to see a shrink, you begin to wonder one of these two things:

1. If your mind is creating illusions to comfort yourself, or,

2. You're really not the only troubled 12-year-old in Konoha that needs help to keep functioning.

Not that Hinata had a serious condition or anything. Seeing him there had initially shocked the daylights out of her, but now she was pleased. In a strange way it was like someone finally understood her. But that didn't make sense, because he actually had reason to be there. What was Hinata's reason for suffering from anxiety? There was none. She was born defective and weak.

The air was delightfully refreshing. Recently weather in Konoha had been unfathomably hot and it was impossible for anyone to maintain a decent hairdo in the outrageous humidity. Somehow this rule did not apply to Neji; his hair remained enviously immaculate. The sun was barely peaking over the horizon now, though, and the day was at its close. It was great weather after a tiresome mission.

Kiba trailed just ahead of his teammates, babbling on about nothing while Shino politely nodded his head and no doubt soaked up all the boring details. Shino usually hung from team 10's every word because he believed he needed to understand his teammates in order to work well with them. He remembered every factor, and was offended when nobody else could recall little things he said, like how not to repair the wing of a Bikochu beetle, or why he always added a pinch of cinnamon to his rice balls. Or how he was allergic to fish. They learned that the hard way.

Konoha's atmosphere was placid and relaxing. Wealthy townsfolk dawdled home after a long day of leisure and being waited on by ninja, store vendors tiredly closed up shop, the scent of everyone's dinners wafted through open windows and entwined to create an ecstasy of smells.

Still, Hinata was feeling jumpy. Like any moment an enemy would pounce and attack her. She didn't trust the friendly citizens that waved and thanked the ninja for their services to the village. Hinata nervously pressed her fingertips together and tried to focus on what Kiba was saying.

_Relax_, she told herself. _I'm home. I'm safe._

Kiba was discussing intently with Shino how lame their missions had been as of late, and his prime example was the mission they just returned from; escorting a herd of stir-crazy donkeys back to their farm, which had taken three days because Kiba kept straddling them and whacking their backsides, shouting 'Ya! Ya!'

Hinata felt a touch of guilt. She knew that team 10 had been going on simple missions because of her. The first time they were ambushed by bandits, Hinata was so terrified she couldn't move, and the bandits soon outnumbered them and stole the very important document they were transferring to Suna. It was their first real mission. She had been absolutely mortified, yet all she could do was cry about it. Kiba didn't speak to her for a week.

It was her fault their potential wasn't being reached. Kurenai requested they take simpler missions from then on, until the genins were ready. Initially, Kurenai wanted Hinata to be pulled from the team altogether, but Hinata begged for her place. She couldn't stand the prospect of being at home with nothing to look forward to but another lecture from her demanding father. Since Kurenai met Hinata's father for the first time, something changed, however; her sensei now seemed determined to bring her to her full potential.

Kiba appeared in front of her face like a clown from a horror movie. "Hey Hinata, you coming back to mine? Mom's made a killer batch of beef jerky just for us!"

Without thinking, Hinata sloppily brandished a kunai and screamed. "Please d-don't!" Kiba lunged back, gaping at her, as if she'd just tried to kill him. Which she had.

She quickly dropped the weapon as if it were on fire. "S-sorry. I was just thinking… a-and…"

"Be careful with that thing!" he growled, and Akamaru yipped form inside his jacket.

"S-sorry—"

He cut her off. "Come on Shino, let's get out of here." The Inuzuka pulled his jacket sulkily higher over his head and took off down the street without another glance back. Shino hesitated, apologised silently with a curt nod and shuffled off behind him.

Hinata knew she should trot after Kiba and say sorry but she really didn't feel she could move yet. Her heart was still racing like a track horse. She hadn't purposely tried to hurt him. He was just overreacting. Still, Hinata, being Hinata, decided to bake him something special to make it up to him. Later. When she wasn't so on edge. She muttered a few more apologies Kiba would never receive and fell onto a nearby park bench.

The sun had finally dipped behind the mountainside and lampposts lining the sidewalk dimly lit the streets. If Hinata didn't head home soon, she'd be in for another lecture from her father. Depending on what kind of day he had, he might impulsively lash out again or lose control of his senses. That was not something she wanted to put up with twice in one week. Her cheek stung at the memory of when he slapped her for trying to help the servants clear up after dinner, claiming that if they didn't do their job it was a waste of his money paying them to.

She couldn't be _too_ late if Neji wasn't anywhere to be seen. Hinata knew that the moment Neji appeared looking for her, she was in _big_ trouble. Not willing to risk it, Hinata clutched the front of her jacket and sprinted until she reached the Hyuga compound. Her legs burned and her hair whipped violently against her cheeks, lashing them until they were bright pink, but she didn't dare stop. She was a ninja, for crying out loud. This short distance should have been a breeze to run. She was really out of shape since she stopped her daily training routine, as her shrink directed.

When the main entrance to the Hyuga estate came into her vision, she jogged to a stop and caught her breath beside it. Clocking her appearance on the rippling surface of a small decorative quoi pond in the yard, Hinata gasped breathlessly and combed her fingers through her windswept hair. She didn't want to walk past all the Hyuga's looking like a barren tumbleweed, though after her three day long mission she couldn't help but look that way. She was covered in dirt and bruises – those donkeys had a nasty kick. A bath became top priority.

Appearances were very important when you were the heir to an entire clan's legacy. You had to keep up a calm and collected façade, regardless of what situation you were in. That's why Hiashi was so displeased with her in general. Hinata had lost her composure and was behaving recklessly recently, too, a direct quotation from his most recent lecture. She hyperventilated at minor provocations and frightened easily; too easily for a ninja. Her father wanted to keep her inside as much as possible until this 'phase' passed. Hiashi would not risk disgrace to their name.

He watched her.

Like.

A.

Hawk.

Slinking past other Hyuga's that lived with her and were called family but never even wished her happy birthday, Hinata kept her head down and tried to draw as little attention to herself as possible. Everyone was required to greet her respectfully and bow or acknowledge her presence anyway, though, so she went anything but unnoticed. Cheeks flaming red, Hinata politely nodded to yet another Hyuga wishing her well and stumbled into her house, sliding the door shut behind her as quickly as possible. She sighed and leaned against the door once inside.

So _quiet_. She took a moment to hear her breathing. Hear her body. It was begging for rest. It was the only good thing about her household—everyone kept to themself. Nobody would be coming downstairs to greet Hinata now.

She slid off her sandals and wriggled her sore toes, rubbing the soles of her feet gently to ease the cramping. She'd been wearing these shoes for three days straight and was glad to finally be rid of them. Next to come off was her jacket, and Hinata also massaged and stretched her aching shoulders. Only now that she was home had she noticed how much pain she was in. Every inch of her body begged for rest, and she willingly complied, turning to the stairs with a delicious, hot bath in mind.

That's when she noticed. Everything was dark. _Dead_ silent. Hinata's skin crawled as she was reminded of a graveyard—the very same that contained the resting place of her mother. The house was empty. Where was everybody? The servants, her father, and Neji?

"Hello?" her voice crackled through the empty hall, echoing twice before settling forever. Nobody answered.

Hinata's chest tightened and her breathing progressed faster; she was panicking. Oh no. Hinata felt like slapping herself for overreacting, but how could she not? There was always at least one person at home when she got back from a mission. What if something bad happened? What if someone assassinated her father and had stolen the sacred Byakugan eye to use for testing or power? Or worse, what if he'd left Konoha and decided she wasn't important enough to bring along?

_No_, she told herself harshly, _that's impossible. Father wouldn't be taken out so easily, and everyone else in the estate is behaving as usual. There's definitely a rational explanation for—_

_THWACK! _

A loud noise shook the walls and stunned Hinata's ears. She screamed and sprinted upstairs, away from the sudden noise, into her room, locking the door behind her. What _was_ that?

A horrifying thought came to mind: _this wouldn't be the first time a clan has been wiped out._

Hinata's head became lighter and her vision grew fuzzy. Her stomach churned with nausea. A familiar ringing in her ears indicated she was going to faint.

_No. No, no! _

Hinata tumbled to her knees, willing herself not to pass out, hyperventilating, holding herself upright by grasping desperately onto the doorknob.

The world was spinning. Hinata's eyes pricked. She tried staring up at the ceiling to hold back her tears. Too late. They fell from her eyes silently, as silent as her empty house, and made dark markings on her carpet floor. She sniffled and fully grasped her current situation. It's not like she was alone. The entire Hyuga clan was just outside her window, willing to protect her and sacrifice their lives in a heartbeat. Why was she so scared? Why did she jump at every noise, think of the worst before the most reasonable? Hinata tried to think where her father might be. Why the house would be empty.

She vaguely recalled her father mentioning something about a meeting before she left…

Yes, that was it! The Hokage had invited Hiashi and other main branch affiliates to have dinner with the Ambassador alongside other foreign and highly prestigious clans for some sort of alliance they were forming. No assassination, no abandonment. Her heart mercifully returned to its normal pace and Hinata gathered her bearings whilst leaning against her bedroom door.

She had been so foolish. So childish! She certainly was not fit to be the Hyuga Heiress.

_Hang on_, she thought, _if nobody's here, what was that noise?_

It had come from the training grounds. That meant she wasn't alone. She wiped away any remains of tears from her eyes and splashed her face with cold water to try and make it seem like she hadn't been crying. Puffy eyes aside, she looked normal, just slightly battered. The meek look on her face was expected.

Cautiously, she lowered one foot after the other, descending the staircase with great care just in case there really was someone dangerous in the house. One of the stairs creaked and her blood seemed to clot and the room tilted, and had the floor always been so far down? An image flashed through her mind: a black figure knocking her out from behind and taking her somewhere far away where nobody could hear her scream, all because they heard her come down the stairs—

But that wouldn't happen, because she was at home, she was safe. Hinata drew a deep, comforting breath and continued her uneasy trek all the way to the Hyuga training grounds, which seemed to have purposely moved farther away than usual to taunt her. The evening had grown so dark, so fast; she had to blink several times to let her eyes adjust to the lack of light.

Tiny droplets of rain had started falling from the sky. She felt one every other second, on her arm, her cheek, her shoulder. The clouds were heavy with moisture. A downpour would soon follow, no doubt.

Hinata quickly pushed the gates to the Hyuga estate's training grounds open and entered the dojo, where she would be kept dry. She removed her shoes, forgetting momentarily about the reason for her coming there and slid her feet across the cool wooden panels that made up the flooring. Her feet tingled with delight against the smooth surface. It had been a while since something so level had been underneath her. The room drummed noisily as sheets of rain fell on the tin roof. She's gotten inside just in time.

Through a pair of ancient sliding doors to the left, past a rack of practice weapons such as dummies and shurikens and targets, Hinata found herself in a small, traditional garden. A small water feature surrounded by smooth, black pebbles welcomed her inside, which proceeded into a pathway lined with lanterns and raked sand to a small, green patch of grass in the center of the room. This was, in her humble opinion, the most pleasant place in the entire Hyuga compound. It was used for meditation. She would wait here until the rain passed.

Hinata paused by the small pool at the end of the water-feature and tested the temperature with her toes. It was cool and eased her swelling feet. She closed her eyes and relished the sensation…

"You look awful."

Neji's voice made Hinata squeak with fright. She spun around and spied him sitting in the middle of the glass clearing, his hands resting on his knees, eyes closed, looking very Zen. Hinata blushed and was thankful he didn't see.

"I-I'm so sorry! I didn't know you were in here, I just assumed you would be at the meeting also!" she breathed rapidly, so it came out sounding more like 'Isosrry-diknoywheiher-ahjussumyouwobetmeelso!'

Neji inhaled gently, held his breath for five seconds then released. He didn't acknowledge her further for quite some time, and Hinata thought maybe she should leave, but then he spoke again.

"You may stay under one condition. I have nobody to guide me through my meditations currently. I would be unable to achieve the desired goal, being sudden enlightenment, without a sensei using paradoxical statements to overwhelm my logical thought process. Are you experienced?"

Hinata stared at him confusedly and blinked.

Neji sighed, a long, tired sigh. "Forget it," he said plainly. "You may stay until it is no longer raining, but after that I will have to ask you to leave."

Hinata didn't react straight away. He continued meditating and she began feeling uncomfortable, so she shuffled towards a small bench and sat on it rigidly, hands wringing in her lap. She was comforted by Neji's presence because it meant she wasn't alone, though marginally distressed for the same reason.

She watched him for a while. He was so still she found herself getting worried he may have died abruptly and would stay in that position forever like a stone statue. She tried to push the thought from her mind, but it kept coming back. She needed to see him do something.

"N-Neji?" she whispered.

Nothing.

"Neji…"

Water trickled in the background.

"Neji!"

"What _is_ it, Hinata?" he snapped, opening his eyes for the first time. "You've been fidgeting this whole time and it is very distracting."

"Sorry," she murmured. "I'll be quieter."

"Forget it," he mumbled, "I'll have to continue this tomorrow." He unfurled his legs, extending them across the grass before standing to his feet and stretching his arms above his head. How long had he been sitting for? He gradually made his way to the bench beside her, reaching for a training bag she hadn't noticed until then and taking a swig from a drink bottle.

Neji had been much kinder since the Chunin exams. His presence no longer sparked dread in her gut, which was the best improvement she could ask for at this stage. Despite his efforts to be more understanding and brotherly, she still remembered all the times he purposely let her get lost so she'd receive lectures and all the times he took it too far in sparring matches. Sometimes it was hard to believe he was really different when the only change he'd made thus far was putting on a fake smile when she was nearby.

He fell into the seat beside her and stared at the gravel about a foot ahead. "How was your appointment on Tuesday?"

He was talking about the counselor. "Fine," she replied automatically. Then she remembered. "Sasuke was there," she added, unsure why exactly she felt the need to share this information. She was sure he didn't want anybody to know, judging from the perturbed look he cast her in the waiting room.

It had been so weird, the way he shiftily approached the water cooler then turned very suspiciously towards her. He looked like he was rehearsing a play. And like he had a wedgie or something.

Neji straightened a little and became interested, genuinely interested, not like when he pretended to spare her feelings.

"Oh? I see." He frowned thoughtfully. "Do you know why?"

She shook her head. "I was going to say something to him, but I had to go."

"Hn." Hinata remembered Sasuke. How he looked. It was a little disconcerting, now that she thought about it.

"He looked tired," she said monotonously. Neji glanced at her. "Um… and pale. Paler than usual, which is very pale, if you consider his skin tone already… and, somehow… well, um… his looks were… less pleasant… b-but not _unpleasant_."

Which was saying something, since she hadn't been bitten by the Sasuke-bug like all the other girls around her age. Eve Hanabi swooned a little when he brooded just so, or whatever it was that made his dark and mysterious persona so gorgeous. She didn't see it. Not once had Sasuke ever said hello, or smiled at her, or treated her like anything other than scum, even though they were all part of the infamous Rookie Nine. She didn't dwell on his unkindness, though. There were other people with plenty of warmth in them, other people that outshine Sasuke in her eyes. Or, more specifically, another person…

Neji nodded and appeared to be in deep thought. Hinata leaned back and swung her legs underneath her. She liked talking to Neji when they were by themselves. He always told her exactly what he thought, not some wishy-washy response anyone else would use to spare her feelings.

"Sasuke has become weak and therefore is no longer an obstacle to overcome," he said. How blunt.

Hinata found herself feeling defensive, for reasons unbeknownst to her. They weren't close or anything. Still, Sasuke was going through something just like she was, albeit more justified, and it really annoyed her when people brushed off the feelings of others. A rebuttal formed itself in her mouth but was swallowed down. She didn't want to start something over nothing. Neji wasn't blessed with an understanding of other people's emotions, so she made herself forgive him.

"The rain has stopped." Neji stood up and collected his things, heading for the door. "Goodbye, Hinata."

She would have stayed seated, lost in thought, if she weren't so scared of being alone. Before he could take a step through the door she had made a leap up behind him with record speed and clutched the back of his kimono, following him outside. He didn't shake her off. Okay, so, he _had_ become nicer.

Time to get started on that apology cake.

-x-

Thanks for reading :) Please give me criticism. I thrive off it.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

-x-

The second time Sasuke had gone to see his shrink, after his encounter with a certain Heiress, he didn't say a single word – why? Because when the receptionist whose name he hadn't bothered to learn yet called him into the second session on a Tuesday afternoon, a face that most definitely was not Harada Izumi leered at him through a crack in the door, making her look similar to a headless Cheshire cat.

He'd stopped in his tracks and said quite loudly in front of everyone, "What the…? Who the hell are you?"

The woman was unfazed as she pulled the door open and stood proudly before him as if she were convinced her being was a work of art and insisted upon flaunting it like a museum display – and her long khaki cloak didn't do much to cover her otherwise bare cleavage. She held out her hand, a wonky smile taking her face as she announced, "Name's Anko Mitarashi," as if it were the highest honour to be bestowed upon mankind.

Sasuke hated her instantly.

She grinned at him for the entire hour, looking like, for lack of better description, a dull-witted redneck that was perilously high on horse tranquilisers. Even though Sasuke was sure he'd never seen the woman before in his life, she kept insisting he'd gotten shorter since she'd last seen him.

Sasuke couldn't help wondering why a woman like Anko was in the psychology unit. The _child_ psychology unit, no less. Anko made him want to commit suicide – that's how low his faith in the Jounin of Konoha had become. She was possibly the least approachable person in existence, and trying to be friendly only made it worse. The instant he pushed past her into the office, she pushed him back and said he was a 'rude little brat' and not to be so childish, before poking her tongue at him. Was she even qualified? Or could anybody sign up to be a shrink these days? Maybe Tsunade sent him to Anko because he wouldn't scare her off.

"Where's Izumi," Sasuke waited no time in asking.

"Dead," Anko said, as if announcing what she'd eaten for breakfast that morning.

Sasuke's eyes bugged out of his head and she laughed.

"Kidding! Kidding, totally kidding," she said, "his _cat_ is dead, so he needed to take some time off, but I've always wanted this job and he ain't gettin' it back."

"So, wait… does that mean—"

"That I'm your psychologist from now on?" She grinned even wilder. "Yep – you get to see this pretty face _every Tuesday_! By the way have you gotten shorter? Been drinking your milk young man? I have milk every day and it's done wonders for my tits."

Sasuke left.

Next week, things were much the same.

Anko greeted him by saying, "Sasuke! You're a sight for _short_—I mean sore—eyes!"

Everyone within a hundred meter radius snapped their eyes towards her and glanced between the two, as if trying to decide which one was the patient. He shuffled through the door with a brisk nod, keeping his head down so nobody recognised him. He didn't want rumours spreading around that the last surviving Uchiha was seeking psychological help. It wouldn't be good for his family's reputation.

That's the main reason he was so worried about seeing Hinata the other day. If she told anyone, his reputation, and his clan's, would be dragged through the dirt. He made a mental note to confront her about it later. Maybe threaten her so she was too scared to open her mouth. That was his brightest Uchiha-brain fuelled plan.

That day, Anko ushered him to a cushioned lounge and told him to sit, make himself comfortable, asked if he needed a booster seat. As if he could feel comfortable in that environment, where the air smelled of tears and crazy. Sasuke tried not to feel self-conscious about his height but she made it impossible. It wasn't like he was short for his age. Naruto was about half his size last Sasuke checked.

She settled into her own seat across the room, rested a clipboard with a few ready-made note papers attached, folded one leg over the other and smiled at him. Sasuke thought maybe the smile was supposed to be reassuring, but she ended up looking like she was constipated.

"Well?" she said expectantly. Sasuke gave her a look and she rolled her eyes. "Okay. I know the drill. We waste your sensei's hard-earned money by sitting here and enjoying the peace and quiet and have a _rest_ until it's time to go home and _rest_. Right?"

He stubbornly refused to speak. It was Kakashi's own choice to pay for these sessions; he wasn't going to carry a guilty conscience over it.

"So, that makes you difficult _and_ selfish." She scribbled onto the clipboard with a wry smirk.

He would have risen to the bait if she weren't so below him. "Guess so."

Anko sighed. She ran a hand coolly through her tasseled purple hair and leaned forward, looking him straight in the eyes.

"Look," she began calmly, "I get it. You don't want to be here. Before you completely close yourself off, though, answer this: Do you really want to go home feeling exactly like you have felt the past few months?"

Past few months? Empty. Alone. Unmotivated. Like a ghost floating through space without the ability to interact with surroundings. He wanted to say he didn't mind—to reply that he was fine. Why, though? He was already there. A part of him was screaming to be heard; to let it spread its spindly legs, since it had been malnourished. Why not give Anko a shot? Why not try and make the most of it? Put his Uchiha pride aside and try to solve his… 'problems'?

He gave in, rapping his fingernails agitatedly on the arm of the chair. "…Alright," he replied finally. "Ask what you want."

A huge grin spread across Anko's round face. She ruffled through her papers and readied a pen. Sasuke suppressed a sigh. He should have stayed quiet.

"Okay," she started animatedly, "before we begin, tell me why exactly you are here."

"I was forced," he said dully.

"I see." She nodded vigorously and scribbled something down. "How does that make you feel?"

"_Please_ tell me you're kidding."

Anko asked him lots of questions. They started off light. The day-to-day stuff. Things relating to his absurd sleeping pattern, difficulty getting up in the morning—or afternoon. Somehow they stumbled upon the topic of expectations. Sasuke hadn't realised it before, but he desperately sought acknowledgement from his peers – particularly Naruto. He'd always lived in the shadow of his older brother…

Then things got deep. Sasuke didn't answer most questions.

"What's the first word that comes to mind when you think of Itachi?"

Somehow, he felt as if Anko were crossing a thin line. The mere name made him shiver with absolute loathing. "Demon," he replied darkly.

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Why do you think that is?"

"Because, he – are you serious? I mean – what else could he be?" Sasuke stammered.

"That must have been rough. Waking up one morning and having nobody to look after you."

He ignored the burning in his chest. "No, actually, I was relieved not to have them in my life anymore, you know, loving me unconditionally, showering me with compassion and warmth. So clingy."

Anko made note of his sarcasm. She told him constant sarcasm was a sign of an overall outlook of bitterness, which led her to believe this experience had deeply disturbed his way of thinking. He saw the darkest side of things before the good – pessimistic. All from one derisive remark? Honestly, what did she expect? That his family would be massacred and he'd continue living like an ignorant child? Of course he'd view things differently. He couldn't figure out if she was full of crap or one of those secret geniuses that hid all their intellect deep inside—waaaay deep inside.

Anko moved on from his family, to Sasuke's relief. Somehow she managed to broach the subject of self-harming, and Sasuke didn't reply. He wanted to say 'yeah, right, that's stupid', but nothing came from his lips. He shrugged – he couldn't meet her eyes so he tried to act like he wasn't bothered, focused on the leaves falling through the window. She changed the subject after taking down some more notes.

Instead they ended up discussing his teammates. He counted their flaws off his fingers. "Sakura's a pain and gets in the way all the time, Naruto's hopeless, obnoxious, annoying, cocky, moronic, hyperactive, impulsive, loud, too competitive, aggressive, nosy, emotionally unstable and has no concept of stealth and he always tries to do everything himself just so he can look better than me which he definitely has no chance at, Kakashi doesn't care about us whatsoever, or any_thing_ for that matter—"

"Oh? Kakashi doesn't care?" Anko interjected. Wasn't she supposed to let him talk? "The very same Kakashi that paid for these sessions? Just because he doesn't voice his concerns doesn't mean they're non-existent. It just means he doesn't know how."

He couldn't argue with that. Sasuke rarely told anyone when he was worried about them, so they thought he was cold and aloof, when really he just felt awkward talking to people about it.

"Well… the other two are still annoying," he added quickly.

Anko examined him. "I understand Naruto is something of a rival of yours?"

Sasuke snorted. "So he thinks."

"What does that mean?"

"The rivalry is one-sided. A rival is supposed to challenge you, but he's not a challenge at all."

"Really? You got worked up before when talking about how much he'd advanced recently," she said carefully.

"Because Kakashi fails to teach me anything of use when clearly I could accomplish more than Naruto, and here he is pulling new techniques out of his ass on every mission. I mean, come on. You'd think somebody was _trying_ to make him look better than me."

"Yes, but you're in a difficult position right now. Training isn't advised. You should try and be happy for him instead of…" Anko trailed off. She ignored Sasuke's scathing look. He really wished she would finish her sentences. "If Naruto's not a rival, then what do you consider him to be?"

He shrugged. "Nobody."

"Ouch," she laughed. "That's harsh."

Sasuke bit his lip. That wasn't entirely true. Technically, you might say, when their relationship was dissected analytically, looked at in a certain light, if you really payed attention, possibly, when you cancelled out a couple flaws, or a lot of flaws, and considered the amount of time they spent together and how Naruto was the only one that could make him laugh or rile him up or make him more human, Naruto was something of a… _friend_ of his, sometimes. On occasion. Just a little, maybe…

Still. "You haven't met him."

"Sure I have, he's even shorter than you, if that's possible," she said. Sasuke glared. She considered what he said for a moment. "Do you think, maybe, Naruto wants you to be his rival because he has nobody else? He probably feels just as alone as you do."

Sasuke opened his mouth to laugh a dry, humourless laugh, but stopped himself. "Why should I care about—"

He jumped when a timer rang from beside her. "That's a wrap," she smiled. "See you next week? Same time?"

"Um… yeah." He stood and sluggishly stretched, a strange feeling of regret itching inside. He was disappointed. As soon as the timer rang, a million things he wanted to say came to mind, about ten minutes too late. It was so easy to talk about yourself. How could talking to someone make him feel lighter? It was a mystery.

Sasuke didn't like mysteries. Especially ones concerning him.

His head span and he had to wriggle his fingers and close his eyes momentarily to keep from falling over in a crumpled heap. When he glanced at her from the corner of his eye, Anko didn't appear to be in the same room anymore—not entirely. She was staring out the window, her cheek rested in one hand, notes dangling in the other. Sasuke opened the door, shaking his head in minor amusement, and was about to leave, when he felt the urge to tell Anko he was grateful.

He turned to see her still slumping lazily in her little couch, going over the notes now, a slight frown creasing her brow. She looked up when she felt his eyes on her. "You okay short stack? Did you forget your purse?"

He snarled a friendly "Screw you," before slamming the door and leaving a chuckling Anko behind.

-x-

Four more appointments came and went, and still Sasuke hadn't said what he needed to say. He wasn't sure what he needed to say could be defined further, or even spoken; just that he hadn't expressed it yet.

Sasuke had prepared everything he wanted to tell her beforehand and memorized it like a speech in bullet points, so that he didn't lose his courage when the time came for him to go to his next session. First of all, he would clarify that Naruto had a bountiful supply of friends, including Sakura, Gaara, Shikamaru, Neji, the fat guy, Lee… and numerous other freaks, and did not require Sasuke to be his rival due to loneliness or whatever. He would proceed to, eventually, tell Anko one of the many things that had popped into his mind before he left last time, which had been screaming the loudest for attention and therefore was first served: the thoughts. His mind raced endlessly, fruitlessly, without purpose, through many different things at once. One moment he could be pondering what he'd have for breakfast and the next thing he knew, his mind would wander onto the topic of relationships, and how he really didn't desire one at all. Did that make him gay? He didn't _feel_ gay, but he didn't feel straight either, or anything at all. Or maybe he was asexual? But the thought would be left behind as some kind of idea would pop into his head and it would seem amazing in the moment he thought it but then he'd think of another one and the previous would be forgotten forever.

It was almost as if he had no control over his mind. It irked him to no end. He was certain his restless mind was what kept him edgy, and was determined to tell Anko so and get to the bottom of the… 'problem'.

Sasuke took a deep breath before entering her office. She hadn't been bothered to get out of her chair and escort him in as usual, but he knew she would be behind the door, slouched boyishly in her couch, painting her toes or sniffing her hair or doing something stupid.

He pressed the door forward and, sure enough, there Anko was, sprawled across the floor with her head resting in her hands, staring down her nose at an ant crawling despairingly through the massive loops in her recently purchased shaggy rug. He knew this because he had never seen the white rug before. It must have felt like sprinting through the thick underbrush of a rainforest to the little insect.

When Sasuke entered, she sat up with her legs crisscrossed. "Hey, Sasuke, ol' buddy ol' pal," she said eagerly—Anko only had one emotion, and it was eager.

He froze. Everything he had prepared, thought through, decided to discuss with her, had disintegrated in his mind and become a pile of miniscule puzzle-pieces he didn't have time to re-order. He couldn't remember what to say, or how to work his mouth. Damn it! All that organising, for nothing?

He nodded dumbly as his mind became a blank slate and headed for his customary seat, but was stopped by her tutting.

"Uh-uh, we're sitting on the rug today," she said as if she had a secret, and patted the space adjacent to her. As if remembering something, her face became empty for a moment before she stared after the ant again, raising her hand in preparation then smacking it down onto the bug's head, squishing it flat beneath her grubby palm.

He sighed heavily as he crouched to a comfortable position on the floor, his legs outstretched and head resting on his arms, flat on his back. He stared at the plain white ceiling, only just noticing how out of place it was. Anko's entire office was bright – she'd claimed it and all decorating rights the minute she was given the job in place of Izumi. The walls were painted lime-green, the bookcase held no books, instead overflowing with knick-knacks and paperweights and tags with lame slogans. The first thing you saw when you walked in was a window sticker in the shape of two ladybugs giving each other a hi-five. Surprisingly, everything was uncluttered.

"How are going?" she asked exuberantly, drawing him from his thoughts. He shot her a quizzical look. "Oops, I meant to say 'how are you' but ended with 'how's it going' and the two just merged like horny rabbits. How are you?"

He closed his eyes, fighting drowsiness. "Fine," he croaked.

"Sleepy, huh?"

"Mmm," he puffed tiredly. He really could fall asleep if he wasn't careful.

There was a slight pause. Anko wasn't breathing. "Don't you want to know why we're on the floor today?"

"Not particularly."

"Oh fine I'll tell you!" she exploded, jolting him awake. Could nothing deter her spirit? "We're sitting on the floor because there isn't enough space for a giant cardboard poster on my small desk."

Sasuke waited.

"…Why do you need a giant cardboard poster?" he enquired tentatively. There was a rustling of paper. When she didn't reply he squinted through one eye to see if she was still there. Anko was grinning at him, unfurling a large scroll of fluorescent pink cardboard. "What's that?"

She laid the cardboard flat across the rug. Sasuke had to shuffle over for it to fit between them and sat up on his knees to get a better look. "This," she said grandly, pointing to the center of the page, "is where your Happy List will be."

Silent seconds passed. Anko ground her teeth.

"You hate it," she pouted.

"No," Sasuke corrected, "I just don't understand it."

"Didn't Kakashi tell you? I told him to tell you."

"Never trust Kakashi to see to a simple task," he said dryly.

Anko groaned. "Great. That means _I_ have to tell you."

"Tell me _what_?"

"Weeeell…" she drawled sheepishly. Sasuke couldn't help but feel tension in his stomach. Was it bad? "It would seem that, judging from the information we've gathered, you are suffering from... _depression_." She paused. "Dun, dun, _duuuun_!"

Sasuke snorted. "Depression," he repeated. She nodded slowly. "Me."

"Yes."

"…No, I'm not."

"Oh? What makes you say that?" she asked prudently.

He clenched his teeth. "Because I'm not."

"How do you know you're not?"

"I just _know_, okay? I don't have any symptoms of depression!" he snapped.

"Self-harming is a big one," she pointed out gently, even though he'd never said it. "Not to mention erratic sleeping patterns, loss of appetite, flat demeanor." Sasuke seethed. "You're upset."

"Hell _yes_ I'm upset!" he roared. "You can't just come to that conclusion after _four sessions_!"

"What do you mean I can't? I just did." She bit her lip as soon as the words were out.

Sasuke looked as if he would explode, his teeth and fists clenched until his knuckles were white and she heard his jaw crack. "Not. Funny." It seemed Sasuke was the only one allowed to be funny around here.

"I know. I'm sorry, Sasuke, sorry." Anko took a deep breath. For some reason, he did too. "I'm not here to convince you that you have depression." He twitched. "The technicalities really don't matter." Weird. She was being serious. "All I want is to see _you_ get better."

He frowned. "Why should you care about me?"

She smiled at him kindly. It wasn't the usual strained jawbreaker. This was a genuine smile. He hadn't seen one of those directed at him in years. "Because you're a human being, just like me. And if I was going through what you're going through I'd want the same thing. I know it doesn't seem like it, but this kind of thing, helping people through the hard stuff, it's what I really have always wanted to do. You're the first of many, I hope."

He leaned against the bookshelf grouchily. For some reason, her words didn't process. What was she trying to say? That there was nothing in it for her? She genuinely wanted to help him? Why? That didn't make any sense. He wasn't about to argue with her about it, though.

"Then help me already instead of asking so many stupid questions," he demanded emphatically. Anko's smile broadened.

"Awesome, I will. One sec." She twisted to her feet and scampered over to her desk, opened a drawer and pulled out a packet of gel pens. "Okay. In order to help you get through your…" She struggled to find words other than 'depression' and 'exaggerated teen angst'. "Your… prolonged melancholy, you need to remember why life is worth living."

He glanced between her and the pens uncertainly. "Why's that?"

"You said so yourself—recently you've been feeling unmotivated. It's because everyone needs to have a reason for living, otherwise your lack of sense of purpose will be your downfall. What used to keep you going?"

An unquenchable yearning for revenge. "Justice," he replied indifferently.

"But justice isn't enough anymore, is it? How can one thing be your only reason for living? As soon as you've achieved this 'justice'," she exaggerated in inverted commas, "you'll have nothing left. That's why you need to be shown all the little things in life that matter. The easy, everyday pleasures that make living worth it."

"Such as?"

"Ah," she breathed, "that's where the Happy List comes in. We're going to sit here for an hour and a half and come up with as many things as possible that make you happy. You will have one month to complete everything on the list at least once. And," she pulled out a navy-blue leather notebook from the drawer also, then came back over to sit beside him. "Just to make sure you aren't cheating, you have to keep a journal of everything you do. The more detailed it is the more I'll believe you."

She looked at him expectantly.

The entire ordeal seemed ridiculous. This so-called 'happy list' would certainly not work, for one very important reason. "I… don't have anything that makes me happy."

She raised an eyebrow. "Don't be silly," Anko flapped, arranging the gel pens neighboring one another on the carpet.

"I'm serious."

She squinted at him doubtfully. "You can't think of anything that makes you happy? Anything at all?"

Sasuke shrunk back and hugged his knees. "Well, not enough for a whole list, anyway."

Anko frowned at the cardboard, clenching her fists and leaning on them as if squeezing them enough might excrete a solution to their recently arisen predicament. "What about gel pens? Everybody likes gel pens." She waggled one in his face as if to prove her point.

"No."

She thought, then started bouncing like she was choking, or trying to crump. "We'll just write down a bunch of things that _I_ enjoy and you can do _them_!"

The idea didn't appeal, mainly because Sasuke had this inclination that Anko enjoyed dope and tripping orphans in the streets. Eventually she persuaded him, however, through an offer of half an hour cut off the rest of their meetings, starting that afternoon.

"Deal," he replied instantly.

"That's my midget!" she said, clapping him on the shoulder with mammoth force that knocked the wind from his lungs. He resisted the urge to rip her hand from its joint with his teeth. "Let's get started."

It took much brainstorming, teasing and wisecracking to come up with a list long enough to last at least a month. The pair ended up with this:

**SASUKE'S (But Mainly Anko's) HAPPY LIST**

1. Dress in brighter colours. ("What? But _you_ wear brown every single day." "Yeah, but I'm not all down like you.")

2. Only eat foods you enjoy, regardless of the carbs or sugar. ("I don't like sweets." "You do now.")

3. Do something artistic, like paint a picture, and put it up in a public place to see what people think. Be anonymous.

4. Find someone you barely know and do something that gives you an adrenaline rush with them.

5. Take a bubble bath!

6. Have your very first romantic encounter! ("I am _not_ doing that.")

7. Escort a nice girl to the upcoming Cherry Blossom Festival ("What did I say?").

8. Make a big tray of lasagna. ("What if I don't like lasagna?" "Well, what do you like?" "Tomatoes." "Then put lots of tomatoes in the lasagna, duh! And call me when it's done.")

9. Make a list of ten things you like about yourself. ("_Another_ list?" "I'm sorry, who's the psychologist? Is it you? No, I didn't think so.")

10. Pin the list to your bathroom mirror to remind yourself how great you are every morning!

11. Greet your reflection with a _dazzling_ smile each time you encounter it! Also, practice your smile – that ain't a smile, that's something else. ("Anybody that's bad at smiling definitely needs to do it more." "Whatever.")

12. Be nice to everyone you meet. ("You may need to practice this one, short stack.")

13. Say 'yes' to everything for an entire day and seize all opportunities.

14. Hang out with that Naruto kid and tell him a secret! (Sasuke scribbled this one out when he got home.)

15. Do something nice for everyone you've ever spent at least half a day with.

16. Treat Anko to some dango! ("_Screw_ you.")

Sasuke hated to admit it, but he was already starting to feel a little better. Anko managed to make him crack a smile or two at some point or other. They bedazzled the poster with glittery hearts and stars (and skulls, so Sasuke wouldn't have his man card revoked if someone saw it in his room). Despite the uber-girliness, Sasuke was excited by what lay ahead. Anko was right—he did need something to look forward to in order to stay motivated. He was thankful he never invited anyone back to his home, because nobody would ever see this poster but him. Except maybe Kakashi, because he knew everything there was to know about Sasuke's personal life. Before his departure, Sasuke added a final task to the list mentally.

Find Hinata and keep her quiet.

-x-

_Thanks for reading! And also thanks to my reviewers. You make me smile._


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Sorry it took a while. Life. Also tornadoes through my town, floods, while the other half of Australia is on fire.

-x-

Primarily on the list: Dress in brighter colours.

It was the first morning of his soon to be happier life. Well, to Sasuke it felt like the morning, but it was really midday and the only reason he woke up was because the Konoha summer was too hot to sleep through once it reached its peak. His body ached and his skull throbbed with the coarseness of a restless night. He had been out cold for hours, ensnared in a dreamless slumber, and still felt as if he'd never slept a night in his life.

Sasuke now stared at his plain wardrobe, his brain not yet functioning at full capacity. There wasn't a single item of clothing in his limited collection that was a colour other than black, white or blue. Where was his motley of garments with all sorts of flavours, one for every emotion, for every activity? He used to have one of those. Now, everything was cloned into the same outfit. Whenever Sasuke found himself in need of new clothes (they were often ripped or terminally damaged in his line of work), he made an order for his customary ninja attire. All ninja were required to have one malleable, resilient outfit they wore during missions. Since Sasuke never had the need to wear anything else, he never bought anything else, simple as that. He did have a black full-body suit packed away somewhere, beneath the mulch of discarded shirts and pants that formed a thick, impenetrable layer he would not dare delve into in the corner of his room; he wouldn't want to retrieve that thing anyway, it made him look like a gothic Lee.

What was he to do? The first task on his 'Happy List' and he was already stuck. He briefly considered borrowing some of Naruto's clothing, admonishing the idea instantly. There was always the option of dyeing his clothes brighter, but they might turn out to be something akin to muddy brown and would ruin every garment he owned. So there was only one solution.

Shopping. He shuddered.

There was nothing Sasuke found worse than shopping; not even Kakashi's tardiness, not even feeling helpless in the midst of a ninja that excelled where he didn't, not even being chased by coyotes disguised as human girls. The contradiction of selfish, bustling people so desperate to be free of the commotion yet refusing to leave. Grumpy, sometimes scruffy, comatose employees who didn't bother doing their jobs. And, worst of all, babies. They cried, they screamed, they pooped whenever and wherever they wanted to (usually when Sasuke was nearby) and they seemed to believe the world revolved around them. On more than one occasion had Sasuke seen shameless mothers breastfeeding in public and seldom did he not gag when he remembered he was once such a nuisance. Everything kept going steadfast in this endless cycle of dread until you just couldn't take it anymore and were forced to leave the shops without fulfilling the initial purpose of going there.

That might have just been him, though.

Even worse was _clothes_ shopping. The employees in the clothing outlets were the only enthusiastic ones and were very good at giving their opinion where it wasn't wanted. Beware when exiting the dressing room, for they will try and sell every single garment tried on by persuading and convincing their victim it looks amazing with their figure.

Especially that it makes their butt look good. Especially when it doesn't.

Sasuke hears other people's opinions on his appearance all the time without them – he gets anonymous notes in his backpacks with doodled love hearts and wishful thinking, girls wink at him everywhere he goes regardless of their age, his Aunties used to coo and pinch his cheeks and still he sometimes has random elderly women try to force shapeless blobs of hard candy into his hands when he goes by the retirement home with ruffle of his hair and a pat to his butt, Sakura reminds him almost every time he sees her that her love is unparalleled by any other and also that he has really nice eyes. Whatever, he really didn't care, and he really didn't need other people to be paid to hear what he heard every day.

Sasuke tried rummaging through bags of his old clothes that he never got around to throwing out, but everything was too small or childish or both. Most were stained, too. He was a very adventurous child, it seemed. Funny how he didn't remember getting dirty so often. He despised feeling unclean, especially after a mission when you were layered in sweat, grime and oftentimes blood.

After fruitless searching, he slumped onto his duvet, unable to shake the lousy feeling gathered in his chest. He had already failed his mission to get happier—and on the first day, too. Sasuke clenched his teeth and balled his fists. A hopelessly angry feeling flared inside. He had no idea why he was overreacting so much, but he couldn't seem to help it, and in an attempt to vent his frustration he pushed over a photo frame on his bedside table without thinking. It clattered onto the carpet with a soft thump.

Sasuke stared at the frame lying face-down on the floor for a few moments before sighing deeply and sinking into his mattress, burying his face in his hands. His heart had caught fire and he needed time to catch his breath - when had breathing become so hard? With a start he realised what he'd done. Sasuke scrambled onto the floor in an instant to retrieve the frame, eyes wide, checking it for scratches, dents, a reason to scold himself. Thankfully, the carpet in his bedroom softened the impact and no damage was dealt.

Forcing himself to calm down, Sasuke carefully rested the picture of him on his seventh birthday smiling next to his mother, father, uncle, auntie and cousin Mitsuki. He wasn't sure who'd taken the photo but he had an unpleasant suspicion it was Itachi behind the camera that day. Sasuke wasn't going to let such a minor imperfection ruin this picture for him, though.

It was his favourite childhood memory; the only day he remembered everything in his life being absolutely perfect. Mikoto and Fugaku Uchiha were crouching on either side of Sasuke in the middle of a large black, red and white checkered picnic blanket in their backyard emblazoned with a large Uchiha fan. Streamers got caught in his hair and little bits of rainbow confetti clung to his cheeks and arms, hung from his eyelashes. He always smiled at the goofy expression on his younger, chubbier face—eyes popping out of his skull in awe of the massive chocolate birthday cake his Betty Crocker grandmother baked with seven candles on the top and a big frosting shuriken, even though he didn't like sweets. He had a major sweet tooth back then, mostly because Itachi did too and he'd wanted to be just like his older brother. He'd become the polar opposite after...

His mother was kissing his cheek and glancing at the camera from the corner of her eye. Fugaku rested a hand on his shoulder, in what had been the kindest gesture his father was capable of without having an aneurism, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. His auntie and uncle had their hands entwined and were both laughing uncontrollably at his expression. Aunt Akiko's eyes looked cross-eyed and her head was thrown askew and her jaw looked out of place and you could see the cellulite in her thighs with that sarong flapping in the wind, but she was still just as pretty as his mother, Sasuke thought.

Perhaps if his family was still alive and he lived like a normal boy, this photo would have embarrassed him by how plump and bubbly he'd been, but nothing else made Sasuke feel so at ease. It was precious.

He kept it on his bedside table was because that was his goal. To have everything in his life just as perfect as back then. To be completely content with his life—happy, like Anko said. It had been there for years, reminding Sasuke that maybe there was the slightest glimmer of hope that he could feel that way again, even though he was just a small child and everything had been far less complicated.

Sasuke's brow creased as he rearranged the photo frame on his bedside table. When he was satisfied that the picture was facing his bed at just the right angle it had been before, he reminded himself of what he had been doing—getting upset over the fact that he had no bright clothing. He'd considered all his options. It seemed that going shopping was the _only way_. With a heavy breath of knowledge that he faced impending doom, Sasuke stumbled to the front door and pocketed his wallet.

Konoha was a very upbeat, old-fashioned village. Each building was painted warm colours that had faded slightly in the sun. Cracks and vines slunk up the walls and gave the streets a vintage appeal. The buildings and vendors themselves were scenery. All the gravelly dirt roads and pathways amalgamated into one giant maze of cul-de-sacs and roundabouts that sprouted into streets and avenues like the roots of mangroves. Most curious of all, no matter where you were in Konoha, you could always see the Hokage monument, and beneath that, their tower. So, that meant the Hokage could always see every inch of the village from her office. Sometimes Sasuke would be wandering about and feel his neck niggling like someone is watching him, but when he turned to see what had set off his senses, all he saw was gleam from the window into Tsunade's office. Terribly irksome.

Once he exited his apartment and reached the bottom of the stairs, Sasuke took an appreciative breath of the open air. It was clammy and burned the inside of his nose. Wonderful.

Summer in the Leaf Village was sometimes worse than Sand, because they had the highest exposure to UV rays from the sun, being directly on the equator. Suna had arid, stale, mouth-drying summers, that gave you the kind of feeling in your mouth you get after eating ten plain biscuits consecutively without swallowing or drinking. Konoha had humidified, sweat-inducing, skin cancer summers, that gave you a brittle film of crust after being exposed to the sun and heatstroke and often caused people to faint.

Sasuke didn't want to waste any time contemplating the weather, however. This shopping trip would be over as soon as possible. Realising he forgot to check, Sasuke quickly examined the contents of his wallet and was pleased to find he had enough money to spend. He surely did not lack in finances, due to the vast amounts of cash he received being the only heir to the Uchiha name. Sasuke had more than enough treasures from generations of legendary Uchiha to last five long lifetimes financially, and most of it would go untouched. However, that money couldn't lawfully be spent until he was eighteen. Moreover, he'd already decided that the majority of the money would be passed down to his children one day and assist in creating a comfortable lifestyle for future generations, and imminent renovations to the Uchiha compound. He just needed a family to share it with first...

While making his way to the markets, Sasuke mostly kept his head down, occasionally glancing as people walked by. Kids had their hands clasped in those of their parents. Couples canoodling on park benches were smitten to the extent of becoming oblivious to a world outside their own. There were people purchasing things they didn't need—people purchasing things they did need but probably took for granted. So much was happening in other people's lives. It was strange to think that everyone he passed had their own secrets, their own problems, their own private affairs and that none of them were really being affected by Sasuke's when he felt so overwhelmed by them.

A shrill voice interrupted his thoughts. "Sasuke? Ohmygosh, _Sasuke_! Where have you _been?"_

His body froze as his eyes scanned the vicinity. Sakura… he couldn't see her. Not in his current state, especially after not showing up for training or missions for what was probably weeks now.

Sasuke searched in vain for an escape route as the pink-haired kunoichi stormed towards him with such killer intent he felt cold sweat dripping down his forehead. At first the massive crowd held her off, but soon she started shoving people out of her way and eventually a path divided itself through the horde to avoid injuries. Sasuke spied an opening directly to his left and slipped through it, realising at the last moment it was a dead-end alleyway littered with trash and crude graffiti.

Her footsteps echoed as she approached him from behind. Sasuke turned to face her, keeping his features as straight as possible so she couldn't get upset over any expressions he may get wrong. A strange mixture between concern and fury twisted across Sakura's face as she closed in on him, the two of them alone save for a few cockroaches and rats hiding in the walls and under garbage.

She planted herself directly in front of him, eradicating any chance of a getaway. Sasuke tried to come up with something decent to say to her expectant face.

"Sakura, what are you doing here?" he asked as detachedly as he could. Her frown deepened. _Nice one, genius. Might as well get comfy, this will take a while_. He slouched over himself, kicking away a nearby can and leaning against a brick wall. "Say what you need to say. But make it quick."

Sakura closed in on him further, nostrils flared. "Say what _I_ need to say? I'm not the one who needs to start talking here! Do you have _any_ idea how _worried_ I've been? You haven't been on a mission with Naruto and I in _ages_! You just disappeared off the face of the planet!"

Not that he was a very gregarious person, but Sasuke's lack of a social life recently was one of the many disadvantages of seeing a psychologist. Ninja were supposed to be pulled off of their teams when they were having... 'problems', sometimes exceptions being allowed, and Sasuke had no problem with getting off missions for now. He literally hadn't spoken to either of his teammates since he'd been taken off duty while seeing Anko, which was about... a month or so? Two? He'd completely lost track of time doing nothing.

"I was busy."

Sasuke shrunk into the prickly brick wall and grimaced under the cold glare Sakura pierced through him. It pinched at his skin.

"Doing _what_? Sailing around the world? Cleaning your house with a toothbrush? Writing letters to every person who has ever existed _ever_? You know, ever since you left the team we haven't had a _single_ successful mission! Naruto only does his best when he tries to make you look bad, and Kakashi-sensei just doesn't give a damn about _anything_ and I've just missed you _so much_ that I couldn't concentrate! And no successful missions means no pay, you know that, _obviously_. I haven't had _any_ income for the past month and my parents have been giving me such a hard time, not to mention Naruto's got practically _nothing_ to live off of, not that I care really because he's annoying, but still. We're a team, we need you! Why aren't you around anymore, anyway? Are you sick? You could at _least_ have the courtesy to write me or come visit so that I know you're okay! Do you see the bags under my eyes? _Do you see them?_ I hope you know that you're responsible for this. Ugh!"

She stomped her foot and ground her teeth, catching her breath. Sakura was the ranting queen – always had been – so Sasuke expected nothing less. He was quite impressed, to be honest. She only took about three breaths. She was really mad. Madder than she'd ever been towards him before.

"Why didn't you come to see me instead?" Sasuke said, regaining his composure. "If you thought I was sick why would you expect me to drag my ill self around for your benefit?"

Sakura drew a sharp breath, arms folded.

"Well, I…" Sasuke was glad to hear her voice was back to normal. "I've never been to your place before," she mumbled.

"But you know where it is," he pointed out.

"Look that's not the point! What I want you to know is that a lot of people were worried about you!" Really? Because nobody else had stormed up to him out of the blue and attempted to deafen him with unfair accusations. He soon felt really tired. She'd drained all his energy simply by being present. "Especially me... you know sometimes I think you don't appreciate me at all. Don't you care about me? I-I mean, as a friend, even. If I disappeared for a month without warning, what would you do? Well, tell me, Sasuke, what would you do."

"Okay, I get it, Sakura," he sighed, trying to push past her, but she didn't seem to notice.

Sakura took a deep breath to calm herself. "Good. You better not do it again."

He nodded absently, hoping she would shut up. The two stood there silently when it seemed to dawn on Sakura who she was talking to, like she had stepped out of her body to scold him. She blushed scarlet.

"Well… bye," Sasuke said, but didn't move. Mostly because she was in his way, and didn't look like she was going any time soon.

"Wait," she burst out, then covered her mouth coyly, giving him the eyes. Looks like she was back to normal. "While we're here, do you want to get something to eat?" He decided to definitely say no immediately, when she added quickly, "we wouldn't be alone of course. I have a friend here…" Sasuke glanced around at the clear lack of Sakura's friend. "Oh my gosh, I totally forgot about her!"

"I'm in the middle of something right now—" he began. Her shoulders slumped and she looked down at her shoes, reeking disappointment.

"Oh." Oh God. That lone syllable, dripping with deject, drenched in despair, dowsed with disappointment. It made Sasuke feel kind of bad about instantly shutting her down. Her eyes were downcast and she shuffled out of his way, but he couldn't make himself move.

Stupid girls and their stupid ways of getting what they want.

"Oh, fine," he agreed reluctantly. "But I can't be too long. I really need to run some errands." Her entire face brightened like a firework display and she gasped exuberantly. She was like a whole new person.

"Really? Okay great because I know this nice place that sells bento boxes – you like bento don't you? – they have this cool new soda pop mango flavour and oh my gosh, I can't wait to see Ino's face – but why am I even talking about Ino, don't worry she's nothing you need to think about – anyway so it's just around the corner and—"

"Sakura?" a small voice squeaked from the alley's opening. Sasuke's spine stiffened as the voice registered in his memory. Peering over Sakura's head, he confirmed his suspicions.

"Hinata, sorry about that," Sakura smiled. She beckoned to the other girl and promptly turned back to Sasuke. "We were just out kimono shopping. Hinata's been invited to a prestigious dinner to welcome Ame's Ambassador into our alliance as a representative of their village. It's so imperial, right?" she giggled, squeezing the Hyuga Heiress' shoulders affectionately.

Funny. Sasuke didn't remember Sakura being that close to Hinata. In fact, the two girls hardly interacted with one another at all. Perhaps girls were born with an uncontrollable urge fostered within to meddle in any affair that weren't their own.

Hinata stared at him like he had just admitted murder. Sasuke was fully aware he was ogling at her with the same steady gaze. She knew he was seeing a shrink—a fact that punctured his pride and ego. Hinata felt similar, only for less self-centered reasons. She didn't like tainting her clan's name by being so vulnerable. Sasuke knew the truth about her, and she couldn't have him telling her secrets, could she? Imagine what her father would say to her. Imagine what people would think of the clan, what they'd whisper whenever Hiashi turned his back: "He acts so high and mighty, but did you hear about his daughter? Can you believe someone like that will be clan head one day? The Hyuuga have really lost their game..."

Sakura glimpsed confusedly between the two, clearly missing something and knowing it, too.

"Is everything okay?" she asked. Silence was her reply.

Hinata seemed so timid and puny. Even when she stared at Sasuke with an intensity not often shown, there was a hint of weakness in her gaze that made him feel better than her.

"I'm so confused," Sakura, irritated now, said loudly to end their ocular showdown. Both Sasuke and Hinata snapped out of their daze and looked at her blankly. This was bad, she thought. Sasuke was paying far too much attention to her, and she'd only just arrived, too...

"Sorry," Hinata murmured. "U-um, hello," she almost whispered to Sasuke. He nodded in reply.

Sakura's stomach gurgling interrupted their scene. She pressed her hands down onto her tummy in embarrassment, offering a strained smile. "Sorry, I just haven't eaten since breakfast…"

"So let's eat," Sasuke said. He was glad that he'd agreed to have lunch with them now that Hinata was there. Hopefully she hadn't told anyone about his appointments already.

Hinata tilted her head to the side. "We're h-having lunch?"

"Oh, yeah. Just at the bento place around the corner," Sakura informed her without bothering to look Hinata's way.

"Um..." Hinata played with the furred hem of her jacket. "Oh, actually, I should be heading home s-soon, so—"

"My treat," Sasuke said tonelessly.

"You don't have to Sasuke," Sakura breathed, thrilled by this dreamlike turn of events in her day.

"I insist." He narrowed his eyes at Hinata, who was fiddling. Why so nervous? She probably _did_ tell someone! Now she didn't want to face the consequences! It made his blood boil.

"Actually, I have something I n-need to do… so you two can go on your own, if y-you'd like…" Hinata, who was carrying no shopping bags and had clearly not spent nearly enough time kimono shopping, tried to skirt around Sakura and make a break for it.

"But you haven't got a kimono yet," Sasuke said darkly. Both girls paused to look at him.

"Er, yeah, that's right," Sakura said slowly. She seemed torn between two choices: helping Hinata find a new kimono, which every girl enjoyed, and eating alone with Sasuke, which every girl fantasised. Hinata started to panic at the prospect of having lunch with the Uchiha, who was acting particularly hostile towards her.

Hopefully Sasuke hadn't told anyone about her appointments. That's it—he must have spilled the beans and now he was trying to scare her off so she wouldn't have the guts to confront him about it later! Oh, he wouldn't win that easily. Hinata was shy, sure, anxious, overwhelmingly, but she wasn't a _pushover_. Well, not always. Okay, so, _sometimes_ she had her moments, but she didn't know Sasuke very well and what she did know of him wasn't so nice, therefore she didn't care much about his opinion of her. Hinata's counselor was her secret and he had no right to use the details to fuel the gossip mill.

"You can't go to a dinner party with the _Ambassador_ in anything but a nice formal kimono," he persuaded smoothly. "Just think about your clan's reputation."

Sakura began to nod. "Sasuke's right. Why don't you come have lunch with us then we can continue looking for an outfit for you to wear?"

Hinata frowned slightly at the Uchiha.

"I'll let you two do that on your own, of course," he persisted.

"That's a great idea," Hinata answered with what she hoped sounded like confidence, determined not to let Sasuke frighten her.

"Great," Sakura piped half-heartedly, despairing over her lack of privacy with her crush but still looking forward to spending time with him regardless.

Sasuke fell back behind the girls and let them lead the way, zoning out while Sakura babbled on about patterns and silks, giving him time to think through what he'd say to Hinata.

-x-

ALL THESE HOES ON MY DICK.

Thanks for the reviews btw.


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